A. Regarding what you mentioned, that the reason the proof is mistaken is that perfection is not a criterion for actuality—it seems very weak to me. In the end, according to what you say, it still comes out that a proof which does not assume premises that we accept from outside is valid in the objective world.
And even according to your own view, this proof can still be set up—we’ll simply define God like this:
Definition — God is the being X/Y/X (let’s say the most perfect), and He also necessarily exists.
Claim — if He does not exist, then that contradicts His definition: necessarily existing.
From here, a proof that God necessarily exists.

And likewise you could define God2, and likewise God3.
B. What you mentioned, that every being proved in this way is the perfect being, is not at all clear. In the end, it could be that there are several beings with the same identical properties… as is known, there is a real object behind the cluster of properties.

You’re repeating what I myself wrote there in my remarks (that there is indeed an achievement in his words of an ontological proof). But as I wrote here, the proof itself of God’s existence falls, because you can simply reject the assumption that actuality is a criterion of perfection. In short, not weak and not nonsense.
After that, you brought the refutation of the existing island, which I already mentioned here.
And finally, regarding your third claim: everything is possible. But when you prove something, the burden of proof is on you. You have not proved the existence of several beings.

I think there is a misunderstanding between us.
I’m not speaking specifically about Anselm’s ontological proof (where indeed the objection from the island would not attack it, since actuality is not a property of perfection). Rather, I’m speaking about a new ontological proof (more in the direction of Descartes, though not exactly).

In that proof, I say: let’s assume there exists some being, no matter what its properties are—not even the most perfect being!—and add to it the property of necessary existence, and thus, wonderfully enough, that very being will pop into existence automatically.

For example, let’s define “Michael Abraham” as having the properties xyz, and also the property “necessarily exists.” It would then follow that “Michael Abraham” exists in reality.

So it would be possible to generate infinitely many “gods” of different levels.
And likewise to create a Satan parallel in level to God.

P.S. I wanted to raise an issue here on the site: it isn’t possible to write long comments on a phone, so you have to split them into several small ones. (Like, the “Reply” button disappears below.)

The question is whether necessary existence fits with imperfect beings. Maybe that is the proof that it doesn’t. Only a perfect being can be necessarily existing. And again we come back to the point that all those beings are one.

On a computer there is a solution. Press Tab and then again until you reach the “Reply” button. On mobile I don’t know what to do.

Even if a contingent being, by its very basis, cannot be necessary existence, I think concluding from that that only one perfect being could wear that crown seems like far too big a leap.
Why not assume that Satan is one of the outcomes of the ontological proof?! I don’t think I need to explain to you that there is a huge difference between God (good in His essence) and Satan (evil in his essence). And here we have proved Satan and God—two immaterial beings that follow from the proof.
So again, the objection you raised is only local, not essential.

On a computer I know that trick; I thought maybe there was something else on mobile.

B. The Rabbi mentions there in chapter 14 also Kant’s criticism, where he argued that one cannot infer from an analytic proposition to the existence of something in the world. And he wrote about that that Kant’s understanding too is completely baseless and begs the question. (After all, it does not show where Anselm went wrong in the logical process, or point out that the definition is incoherent.)
But I wanted to ask: why indeed can’t one beg the question on this matter, and define the concept of “existence” and the distinction whether something exists in reality or not only when we have some possibility in reality to examine it, or at least as a process of inference that comes from a synthetic a priori proposition? Once we beg the question in that sense, the whole ontological argument runs into a definitional barrier from the very definition of the concept of existence.

I wrote this, by pointing out that at the base of the proof there is an assumption (even if not an empirical one). Once that is the case, you can of course assume the opposite assumption and deny the conclusion.
However, Kant’s words imply that he found an error in Anselm, not that he was merely presenting a possible alternative.

A. I didn’t understand what you mentioned about the assumption. Could you point me to where it is written in the booklet, or remind me? (Meaning: what did you mean by saying that if there is an assumption then one can assume the opposite and deny the conclusion—which assumption are you talking about?)
B. Okay, but even if it’s only a possible alternative, it still seems to me pretty strong—strong enough to reject the proof as being the more plausible option.

The assumption that existence is a criterion of perfection (there are other assumptions too).
We’ve exhausted this.

Okay, thank you very much for the response until now, you’re the boss here… though I didn’t exactly understand, but let’s say okay.
What I mean 😉 is that I didn’t understand why you always want to reduce the proof’s arguments only to a description of perfection alone.
Why not assume of a being that it simply has a number of properties, for example—
A. also perfect,
B. and also separately* has the property of necessarily existing,
that is, not as a consequence of the property of perfection, but accompanying the property of perfection.

If you see it that way, then again there will never be such foundational assumptions in the proof, because you’ll split them into other parts with independent sub-arguments.

I already mentioned that this is the meaning of the refutation from the existing island.

Yes, but in the end the existing island cannot really be a refutation,
because it is derived from our eyes, which can mislead us and hide it, whereas it is logically proved to exist.
So all these absurdity arguments—which generate infinitely many necessarily existing creatures—seem weak to me relative to the essence of the argument: whether one can derive the existence of a thing from an independent definition.

Of course not. I only said that there is no new refutation here.

I don’t have time to go into all these details again and again, and I also don’t remember what exactly is written in the booklet here on the site (it’s a relatively old version). I’m copying here a more updated formulation I have that deals with these objections, and maybe it will help you more.

18. Gaunilo on the existing/perfect lost island

Introduction
The next criticism we will discuss is very old. Already in Anselm’s lifetime he received a response from the monk Gaunilo of Marmoutiers, under the title “On Behalf of the Fool,” containing several objections to different parts of his formulation of the proof. The best known of them is the objection from the existing island.
This objection is similar in character to Kant’s first objection, since it does not directly attack the logical inference nor any assumption underlying it, but points to an absurdity that arises if we adopt such a pattern of argument. In this context, it is important to recall what we saw above in chapter 14 regarding Kant’s a priori objection. The fact that a certain pattern of argument seems to us a priori absurd is not enough to reject it. At most, it gives us motivation to look for a flaw in the argument. But so long as we have not found such a flaw, the argument remains standing.

Initial formulation
A simplistic formulation of Gaunilo’s objection is the following. Let us define the concept “the existing island.” Now let us assume for the sake of discussion that it does not exist, and this will lead us to a contradiction. If so, by reductio we necessarily reach the conclusion that this island indeed exists. In this way, of course, we can prove the existence of the existing lion, the existing star, or thousands and billions of existing stars, the existing Flying Spaghetti Monster, the existing fairy with one blind eye and sharp wings, and so on. This is a generator that produces crazy and bizarre entities at will, in an uncontrolled way and without any logical or physical limitation. We throw definitions into the air and by their very nature they turn into existing beings in our world—which reduces Anselm’s pattern of argument to absurdity.
It should be noted that even here there is still no indication of an actual flaw in the argument, but only a reduction to absurdity of this mode of inference. I have already remarked that in order to refute an argument one must point to the problematic point in the inference itself. Some raise this refutation against the accepted religious view that God is one, and show that in this way one can prove the existence of as many gods as one likes. But this too is not a refutation, since the ontological proof is not committed to any religious conception. It proves the existence of some being and calls it God. Whether identifying it with God in some religious conception is correct or mistaken is a separate issue, but certainly not relevant to our argument.

Rejecting this formulation of the objection
Even if I think about the existing island, it certainly may in fact not exist. Just as I can think about a triangle even if there were no triangular object at all in the world. There is nothing preventing us from thinking about things that do not exist, and even thinking of them as existing. If this island I thought about does not in fact exist, then at most it turns out that I imagined a concept that does not really exist. That is all. Where is the contradiction here? Let us look for a moment at the opposite definition: the island that does not exist. Suppose it turns out that this island actually does exist. That only means that the island that exists is not the island I thought about, but another island. The very same island whose properties include not existing cannot exist. But that is an empty statement. Of course this will not be the very same island, but not because of a contradiction with its definition; rather because identity is defined between objects, not between a concept and an object in the world. (In what sense is the island that exists exactly the same island I thought about? It may resemble it, but it certainly is not literally the same one. Just as an existing triangle is not the triangle I thought about, even if they are identical in their properties.) If so, the same applies in the opposite direction: if I think about an existing island, then one cannot say that it itself does not exist. But not because of a contradiction; rather because one cannot speak of those two as the very same island. At most one can say that there is no island at all that answers to the description “the existing island,” and I simply imagined one. Therefore this objection in that formulation is mere illusion.
Let me remind you that at the end of chapter 15 I pointed out the difference between thinking of a concept in the sense of entertaining it in one’s mind (imagining it), and arriving at the conclusion that some proposition about it is true. Entertaining a nonexistent concept as existing is certainly possible. But when I stand before it, I understand that it exists (and I am not merely entertaining the existing being as a concept). The existing island can be imagined, but that does not mean I truly think it exists.
Beyond that, we saw that Anselm began his move from the definition of a concept: the greatest being that can be conceived. Can “the existing island” also count as the definition of a concept? Apparently not. It actually hides a claim within it. A definition includes the properties of the concept, but not its existence. True, in a certain sense this itself is a refutation of Anselm’s assumption that existence is a predicate or feature, but at least we can see that there is no additional refutation here. Beyond that, Anselm did not insert existence into his definition of God. The definition is the perfect being. It is true that he assumes that existence is a criterion of perfection, but that is an additional (and problematic) assumption, which we have already discussed. It is not part of his definition itself. This is a more reasonable procedure than the objection of the existing island, which commits a blatant category mistake right on the table. We did indeed see that there is nothing preventing us from entertaining a fictional being as existing. But to define a concept in such a way that existence is part of its definition—that is not a definition. We are presenting a claim under the guise of a definition. Put differently: here the fool really could claim that he does not understand this definition, meaning he cannot form it in his mind, and then the discussion with him gets stuck right at the start.
Not for nothing does Anselm avoid presenting a caricature of an argument that proves the existence of “the existing God” from the direct contradiction that would arise if He did not exist. As we have seen here, that is a void argument. Anselm speaks of the being than which no greater can be conceived, not merely an existing being. As we saw, Anselm’s mode of inference is built specifically on that exact definition and moves from it to the conclusion much more carefully.

Gaunilo’s objection
A more precise formulation of Gaunilo’s objection apparently inserts his island into the pattern of Anselm’s argument. In the original, Gaunilo did not speak about the existing island, but defined the greatest lost island (GLI), or more precisely: the greatest lost island that can be conceived. Now insert this concept in place of God in Anselm’s argument, and the conclusion that follows is that the GLI of course exists. Note that we are speaking about a lost island, meaning one whose existence is unknown to anyone. We have proved here the existence of an island not yet known (and probably never to be known) to anyone. This is a nontrivial factual conclusion, since now we all know that there exists in the world at least one island whose existence nobody knows. It is important to see the difference from the previous formulation. Here one does not put existence into the definition, but proceeds indirectly, speaking about a property of perfection or of being the greatest. As noted, this is already much closer to Anselm’s original argument.

A possible rejection
It may perhaps be possible to reject Gaunilo’s objection as follows. The GLI is not merely the physically largest among lost islands, but the most perfect among them (otherwise existence certainly would not be a criterion for the greatness of GLIs). But unlike the case of God, in the case of lost islands existence is not necessarily a criterion of perfection. The assumption that existence is one of the perfections was stated regarding God, because He is perfect in all perfections; but among the predicates applicable to lost islands, it is not certain that existence is one of them, and therefore it is also not one of the perfections by which the greatness of one lost island over another is measured.
Let us recall here that in the previous chapter we saw that Anselm in fact covertly assumes a very specific meaning for the term “greater than,” one that includes existence (existence is a criterion of greatness). We also saw there that this definition must enter into the definition of the concept of God as well (for greatness appears there too: the greatest that can be conceived). We asked there whether this is not simply begging the question, since defining Him as existing seems already to yield the conclusion that He exists. We explained there that this is not begging the question, since it is possible that no other object exists, or at least none can be conceived as existing, and then God is the greatest that can be conceived as existing. Indeed, regarding God, in the end we proved that He exists because He is measured in His perfection (greatness) against all beings in the world, and if we are not skeptics, then obviously there are some beings in the world. But regarding the island the situation is different. After all, the GLI is measured only against other lost islands (it is the greatest among them), and it is possible that there are no lost islands in the world at all. In such a case, even the greatest among them can be a nonexistent island. If so, regarding the GLI this is straightforward begging of the question, whereas regarding God that is not necessarily so.

Anselm’s reply
Following Gaunilo’s criticisms, Anselm wrote his book Reply to Gaunilo. In response to the argument from the island, Anselm claimed that Gaunilo had missed a very basic point in the ontological argument. There Anselm returns to his distinction in chapter 3 of the Proslogion (see our discussion of this in the third part) between two kinds of beings: a necessary being and a contingent being. The existence of a necessary being is not dependent on any other being, and is necessary by virtue of itself. A contingent being exists accidentally (because some other being or mechanism created it). A necessary being cannot fail to exist (because its existence depends on no circumstances), whereas a contingent being can (when the causes of its existence disappear).
In his reply Anselm argues that God is a necessary being (see the third part). By contrast, the greatest lost island, even if it exists, does not exist necessarily, but probably exists accidentally. Its existence depends on circumstances (the sea around it, or the physical mechanism that formed it). His point seems to be that God’s nonexistence is a logical contradiction, and from that it follows by reductio that God exists (“God does not exist” is an oxymoron). But the nonexistence of the GLI is not a logical contradiction, but at most something contrary to a contingent fact known to us (that it exists, or that it is the greatest). A contradiction to the laws of nature or to a chance fact known to us cannot serve as a logical argument. Even if this is perhaps evidence of existence, it is certainly not an ontological argument, since ontological arguments are of a purely logical character, or at least without factual assumptions.
Put differently (following the distinction at the end of chapter 15), one can say that it is indeed possible to conceive of a GLI, but not to think that a GLI exists. Only if its existence is necessary does an identity arise between conceiving it and its actual existence. If I have conceived of a being whose existence is necessary, then it will also exist in the world. That follows from its concept. But if I have conceived of an existing being whose existence is not necessary, there is nothing to prevent it from not existing in the world. At most I have imagined a being that does not exist.
Moreover, if it were clarified to us that the existence of the GLI is necessary and follows from its concept, then it would cease to be an island. An island is a material entity whose formation we know how to explain, and therefore we know that the existence of an island is not necessary. Once we find an island whose existence is necessary, it ceases to be an island. But contingent existence cannot be proved by an ontological argument. Therefore, at most the GLI is God Himself, and Gaunilo has simply repeated the ontological proof in slightly different terminology. It is important to understand that one cannot prove the necessity of the island’s existence by the move of chapter 3 that Anselm used to prove the necessity of God’s existence. Therefore the necessity under discussion here in relation to the GLI is logical necessity (we have a proof of the island’s existence), but not ontic necessity (its existence is not necessary by virtue of itself, nor independent of external beings or mechanisms).
Anselm himself raises there yet another argument. Let us try to make this island larger and larger. If it is not the greatest, then it is not the greatest lost island that can be conceived, because one can conceive of a greater GLI than it. If so, its area (and really its volume) is infinite. But from a certain size onward it ceases to be an island (and also could not exist in the world, because there are other objects in the world).
Seemingly this is a technical argument. But I think there is a substantive argument behind it. Consider: which is the greater being—God or the GLI? Surely God, for He possesses all perfections and is greater than all beings that can arise in our minds, including the GLI, whereas the GLI is great only within the group of lost islands. If so, by definition it cannot be infinite (not necessarily in size, but in all its qualities). It can exist only if it is itself God, in which case we have once again simply proved the existence of God.
Put differently, any being than which no more perfect can be conceived is God. One cannot speak of the perfect island or the perfect lion, because if it is wholly perfect then it is itself God. In these arguments we are simply proving the existence of God again and again.

Summary
In the third part we pointed out that the necessity of God’s existence is tied at the navel to the possibility of proving it by an ontological argument. The “miracle” of proving a fact on the basis of a logical argument without observational premises keeps returning again and again to the point of necessary existence. Not for nothing did Anselm devote chapter 3 of his book to this point, since the whole proof stands on it.
Kant is right that one cannot prove the existence of things by ontological arguments, but his words are relevant only to ordinary beings that exist with ordinary existence. God is exceptional in that His existence is necessary. With respect to such objects, and only with respect to them, there may be an ontological proof of existence. We will return to this point in the next chapter as well.

A. I wanted to write that there is a typo — “intoh” instead of “into.” If you search you’ll see it in the paragraph beginning “Let me remind you that at the end of chapter 15.”
B. You mentioned in that paragraph that to define a concept such that existence is part of its definition is not a definition but a claim, and here the opponent can already say that he doesn’t understand the definition.
I) I didn’t understand how he could claim that; after all, in the end it was inferred logically from the assumption, there’s no contradiction, incoherence, or anything. This is a basic point and I’d be glad if you could explain.
II) Every proof has to derive the conclusion from the premises, otherwise it’s invalid. So at this point you’ve also nullified the proof that derives “existence” from the concept of “perfection.” I think accusing the island of making a blatant category mistake on the table is rather silly.
III) Although I do accept that to think of the greatest thing that cannot be conceived goes beyond simply being derived from the assumption.

C. You mentioned in the refutation of the GLI that at a certain point it stops being an island and collapses, but just before it becomes so, in my humble opinion it is already considered the greatest island that can be conceived. And therefore it will exist. Because existence is a greater expression of it.
(And regarding the question you asked, that greater is not existence in relation to perfection, one can also add to this island the definition of perfection, and then in fact your own claim proves the island’s existence.)
D. I still haven’t understood how you reject the argument of the most perfect and greatest Satan that can be conceived. Unlike God, who is the best. Satan is the worst, the most perfectly evil.

I forgot to add: thank you very much for sharing with us quotations from the new book here! ✌ッ✌ ♫ ♪✌

A. Thanks.
B.
1. I didn’t really understand the claim. When you say “the existing island,” you are asserting something (not defining). But you have not defined the concept about which you are asserting what you assert. Its definition cannot simply be that it exists. By contrast, the definition of the perfect being is a perfectly ordinary definition, and it is understandable.
2. I didn’t understand.
C. You are inserting a letter for the sake of explaining mathematics. There is no greatest number in the open interval (0,1). When the island becomes the most perfect, it turns into God, as I wrote there at the end.
D. The most perfect Satan is not Satan, or else not perfect. Part of perfection is goodness. And if there is something good and it is the most perfect, then it is God. Again we are back to what I wrote at the end.

You’re welcome.

1. The island has many definitions, and existence is one of them. What’s the problem?
2. I meant that in any case the premise of existence is already embedded in the conclusion, so what difference does it make if I shorten the process and define it separately.
C. Is there a point at which the island will stop being called an island? If so (as you wrote), then just before that it is the greatest island. That seems simple to me.
D. I didn’t mean the most perfect Satan in all perfections. I meant the most perfect Satan in all perfections except the perfection of goodness, where he is instead the greatest villain.

1. I wrote that existence is a claim, not a definition. So when you write “the existing island,” it is not clear what exactly you are talking about.
2. It is embedded in the assumption, not in the definition. When you hide an assumption inside a definition, you have turned the definition into a claim.
3. No.
4. When you list perfections, you are really abbreviating a list, within which existence is included, and existence is not part of the definition. If you say “the most perfect” in a general sense, that is a definition.
I think that’s enough for us. The arguments I raised seem sufficient to me, and if we don’t agree, then we don’t.

I want to understand whether I got what you meant.
It seems from your words that sometimes a definition of a being can be interpreted as a hidden argument disguised as an assumption, and sometimes not—in that case it really is a definitional assumption.
When I define something in terms of existence, I am actually *claiming* that it exists, not defining it. And so too in the example of perfection—sometimes the phrase “X is the most perfect being” will be interpreted as a claim, and sometimes as a definition.
When is it one, and when the other? When we see the concept of perfection “as a whole,” then it is a complete definition. For example, “X has all perfections.” But sometimes the concept of “perfection” is interpreted only as a shortened list, a kind of code word containing many definitions.
That happens when I cancel or limit the full definition of “perfection”—for example, when I say that “X has all perfections **except** being good.” In that case, because I limited the overall perfection, it shows that I am presenting the rest of the perfections as an overall list.
And once it is split up, then claims are hiding in it and not only definitions. Like “existence”—which, when presented separately, is really a claim and not an assumption!

I’d be glad first of all to know whether I understood these distinctions properly.
If so, then afterward it will finally open a window for me to understand why you don’t accept a tautological argument as correct, and when you see something as a definition and when as a claim.

Indeed. As I said, these matters are expanded upon more in the first book of the trilogy (an updated version of the booklet).

Where can I get the trilogy? (In the booklet all these distinctions are absolutely not written, in my opinion. Maybe they are, but not clearly and explicitly.)
B. If so, I still haven’t understood why you don’t see a tautological argument as correct. After all, its contradiction will always count as a contradiction.
C. When do you see a definition as an argument disguised as an assumption, and when do you see it as a real assumption? For example, why in Descartes’ proof too wouldn’t you say that there is a hidden assumption behind it?

I’d be glad if you could shed some light on my understanding here. 🙂

A. The trilogy has not yet been published.
B. A tautological argument is always correct. I didn’t understand the question.
C. There is a confusion of concepts here. An argument is an inference from premises to a conclusion. A claim is a sentence that asserts something (both the premises and the conclusion are claims). A definition is the presentation of the meaning of a concept, and therefore it is neither a claim nor an argument.
What I wrote is that “the existing island” is not a definition but a claim disguised as a definition. By contrast, “the northernmost island in the Mediterranean,” or “the island on which three trees grow”—those are definitions.
“The most perfect being that can be conceived” is also a reasonable definition and not a claim. True, according to Anselm one may derive from it that this being also exists, but that derivation uses an additional assumption (that existence is a criterion of perfection).
If you don’t mind, I’ll stop here. I’m really exhausted by the discussion already.

First, sorry for all the trouble I’m causing the Rabbi. I’m not asking in order to press the Rabbi or create a polemical debate; my questions are only in order to understand the Rabbi’s words.
Thank you very much for sharpening the concepts.
I’d just be happy for one more little twist, one last clarification, on those same questions I’ve been trying to ask from the beginning until now, and now thanks to the explanation maybe I can ask them through the concepts you presented.
A. When do I see a sentence as a definition, and when do I see it as a claim? Is it just some sort of rough estimate? For example, I can say that as far as I’m concerned, the sentence “the island that necessarily exists” is also a definition and not only an argument. Or is there a clear boundary?
B. What distinguishes a claim/argument that I can object to? For example, according to what you say, I can object to someone who claims to me, “There is an invisible wizard next to you,” even though if I try to negate his claim and say to him, “There is no invisible wizard next to me,” I will enter into a contradiction according to his foundational assumption, and therefore if so I must assume that such a wizard indeed exists next to me.
As opposed to an argument that comes from definitional analysis, against which I cannot say, “Your definition is not acceptable to me”—for example because it is drawn from our experience and intuitions.

I’d really appreciate it if you could answer that; this is really the core question behind the whole idea here. …

A. When is a sentence an imperative and when is it a description? Is that just some sort of rough estimate? When it contains an imperative, it is an imperative; and when it contains a description, it is a description. The same applies here: if it defines something and asserts nothing, then it is a definition. It is not judged in terms of true or false. And if it asserts something, it is a claim. What I wrote is that the definition “the existing island” is not really a definition as it appears to be, but hides a claim within it. Definitions include only characteristics, and existence is not a characteristic of the thing.
B. Here there is real confusion. Why should I care about his assumptions? I object to him according to my assumptions. A person may tell me there is a chair next to me. If I think there isn’t, I tell him he is mistaken.
With respect to a definition, there is no way to do that—because a definition asserts nothing. So what are you arguing about? It’s not because it is drawn from our experience and intuitions. You keep mixing up a claim with a true claim. There are also false claims, and they still belong to the category of claim because they assert something.

Thank you very much!
A. If so, then there may be intermediate cases. For example, “the most perfect Satan in all perfections except the perfection of goodness, in which he is the greatest villain”—there will be people who really do perceive the existence hidden in perfection as a definition and not as a claim hidden in a string of definitions.
A2. In any case, a claim of existence under the guise of a definition, then, is found only in definitions of ordinary existence. But anything for which one claims necessary existence you define as something new. After all, there is an essential difference between an object that necessarily exists and an object that does not necessarily exist. So one can define “a table that necessarily exists and is not bound by the laws of nature”—that is a substantially different definition.
B. Ahh, I understand—an argument is basically a kind of “loaded” sentence, a kind of new assumption. As opposed to a definition, which is only a description of something. If

Thank you very much for clarifying the matter.

I know the Rabbi is already exhausted by the discussion, but after a comprehensive reading of the topic I think I understood it better, thanks to the explanations the Rabbi gave here. Today I reread the material (both in the booklet and on other sites in English) and I understood their intention better. So thank you very much!!!

There are only two questions with the same basis that I still haven’t understood. Sometimes it’s a little hard for me to determine whether a certain definition counts as a real definition or not. For example, if we define Satan as the strongest, most evil being, etc., and also that he is necessary existence—really “perfect” for evil…
I know you see that definition as a claim, I just didn’t quite understand why. After all, there is an essential difference between a satanic being that is necessary existence and a Satan who is contingent. Why can’t there be a being which is not completely perfect, yet still count by definition as necessary existence?
B. I have a question (similar to chapter 19): if I accept the understanding that indeed the idea of a necessarily existing thing is greater and more perfect than the idea of a non-existing thing, can I nevertheless claim that this idea does not have to have actual existence in the world, and that the idea remains only as an abstract thought? After all, existence is not a predicate. So it has no standing in the world.

And one final yes-or-no question:
Can I accept as a basic intuition that one cannot learn from an analytic proposition to the existence of something in the world? Will I run into a logical contradiction because of the ontological inference, or not?

Really thanks if you can answer!!
I would see this as a question arising from a much better understanding of the topic now, in the sense of a new responsum…

Yedidya, have you decided not to stop until you finish me off completely? 🙂

A. I don’t know what a “real” definition is. Do you mean a definition and not a claim? I wrote that any perfection that is not perfection in all parameters is suspect as being a claim under the guise of a definition. Therefore the perfect Satan is like the perfect island.

There certainly can be a being that is not completely perfect and is necessary existence. The question is not whether it can exist, but whether “perfect in terms of existence and not in other respects” is a claim or a definition. I argue that this is a claim and not a definition, like the existing island. Therefore even if it exists, one can infer its existence only if one observes it. An ontological proof will not prove its existence, because what you proposed is not a definition but a claim (see the previous paragraph).

B. This is indeed a significant objection: the difference between entertaining something existing in thought and thinking that something exists. I addressed this briefly in the chapter I posted here (and in greater detail in other chapters).

Regarding the final question—in my opinion, yes. But only after we have really refuted the ontological proof, or at least its ontological character (shown that it depends on assumptions).

That’s it. Please have mercy on me 🙂

Thank you very much for the remarks! The strong can have mercy on the weak, but how can the weak have mercy on the strong? So please have mercy on me.

A. Thank you very much. Earlier you presented the matter as a certain claim, not as a doubtful one (that a perfection not in all parameters is only suspect as being a claim).

B. Thank you very much! We’ll wait for the publication of the book.

C. What kinds of assumptions did you mean—assumptions at the heart of the argument?
The assumption that it is possible to have an ontological argument that proves a fact from conceptual analysis? But if I come with an intuition and basic understanding that this is mistaken at its root and that understanding is possible only by means of synthetic a priori propositions, is that still a logical contradiction? Or is it no longer a logical contradiction? After all, I simply do not accept the concept of such arguments.
(I mean, even though I accept all the secondary assumptions of the argument—for example, that necessary existence is indeed an aspect of perfection in the idea, and so on.)

Thanks!

I see your opening was meant to explain why you are not having mercy on me and keep asking… 🙂
I didn’t understand your question. In my remarks I meant the assumptions that Anselm does in fact assume at the foundation of his argument (although in his opinion there are no assumptions there). I detailed them in the booklet, and even more so in the version in the book.

Yes, that I understood. The question is whether your remarks refer to assumptions like that the idea of perfection-with-existence is greater than an ordinary idea, and so on. And after we see that the argument does contain assumptions, then one can add additional assumptions about the ways human understanding works.
Or perhaps—even if I accept that all these assumptions are not assumptions but basic logical definitions, still, as long as I assume that one cannot infer from conceptual analysis alone to the existence of an object, the ontological proof never gets off the ground.
I mean, after all, the understanding that one can derive existence from analysis of a definition is itself also a kind of assumption and human understanding. So if I assume that one cannot, that is enough to “prevent” the proof from rising beyond the idea.

Indeed, that is one of the assumptions. There are others too.
But there is no such thing as “one can add.” Either the argument has additional assumptions or it does not.
Even if you assume that ontological inference is impossible (as Kant assumes), that is still not enough. You have to point to a flaw in the argument itself, otherwise your assumption has thereby been refuted. However, if the argument has additional assumptions, you can always give those up in order to preserve the assumption that ontological inference is impossible.
The argument does not assume that one can derive existence from a definition; it actually does so. That is not an assumption of the argument but its conclusion. Therefore even if you oppose that assumption, it will not help you. The argument proves that you are wrong—unless you take the route I described above.

But someone who really accepts the assumptions of the discussion—and they seem overall reasonable to him—that necessary existence is part of the definition of God as part of perfection, and likewise the rest of the claims; but the conclusion seems to him utterly absurd and contradicts other assumptions—how can he decide between the understandings and the assumptions?

He has to decide what seems stronger to him. You cannot have both this and that. Whenever a contradiction emerges from the combination of several claims, you have to choose which one to give up. There is no algorithm here. You have to examine what is weakest in your eyes. There are rules of assistance, like lex specialis for example (it is preferable to qualify a general assumption rather than give up a specific assumption). For example, there is a prohibition of murder and there is an obligation to kill a Sabbath desecrator. What do we do with the contradiction? Clearly, giving up the obligation empties the verses that command it of their content. By contrast, if we qualify the prohibition of murder and determine that it does not apply to punishments handed down by a religious court, then we remain with both the obligation and the prohibition (though qualified). This is a very useful principle in such decisions, though one can argue about it too.

Okay thanks, yes, I figured you’d use your favorite rule, lex specialis. I think it’s mentioned here in almost a quarter of the messages :-||
By the way, I didn’t see that you mentioned Kant’s first argument—what do you think of it?
He says that the most that can be said about our definition of beings that necessarily exist is only if we add a qualifying condition before it; for example, when we say “a triangle has 3 sides,” that is true only in case such a triangle indeed exists. And likewise regarding the definition of God: that “if X exists—then He necessarily exists.” (And then, once we reject the whole definition of God, we do not run into contradiction because we also reject the predicates attributed to Him.)

Do a search and you’ll be surprised.
His argument is not relevant. As I explained, refutations of Anselm’s argument need to point to a flaw in his argument itself, not simply declare alternative statements.
All right, I’m done here now, and this time really (without committing myself as a vow).